


Revisiting the Past

by thesinnerwiththedolphintattoo



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Avoidance, Child Abuse, Flashbacks, Gen, M/M, Mokuba has no idea what the hell is going on with his brother but he wants to help, Nightmares, Parent/Adopted Child Incest, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Seto is in his early 20s and Mokuba is in his late teens, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, this is not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 07:36:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10509249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesinnerwiththedolphintattoo/pseuds/thesinnerwiththedolphintattoo
Summary: After years of repressing his past, Seto Kaiba is forced to deal with his trauma as they begin to take a toll on his every day life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please please PLEASE read the tags, I cannot stress enough that a lot of the material in this fic can be triggering and I do not want anyone to get hurt.  
> This is the beginning to a project I'm intending to do regarding the Yu-Gi-Oh! characters and their backstories/trauma. I have a lot of thoughts/feelings/headcanons on the topic. I also have a follow-up for this story in particular that I may combine with this one, or I may just make it a part 2. Not sure yet.

_“Whatever you want to do to him, do to me. Just please, don’t hurt him.”_

_The dark figure smirked, eyeing Seto, his face not lightening at all, “If you insist. But only if you agree to not complain, scream, cry, or tell anyone. You will do whatever I say and follow whatever it is that I want to do to you— no questions asked.”_

 

* * *

 

The nightmares were getting worse. More frequent. More vivid. Every time he woke he was drenched in sweat, gasping for air and resisting the urge to cry. No matter what, he would not allow himself to be weak. He would not break.

He figured avoidance was the best way for him to handle the dreams, choosing to take multiple power naps a day and not allow himself to reach REM sleep. This behavior took a toll on his health, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to getting minimal sleep, anyway. He just needed another coffee to get himself through the day and he was fine. Loading up with caffeine was a fine alternative to dealing with the constant nightmares.

He thought he was being rather conspicuous, hiding his troubles from those around him and acting normal, but he quickly became hyper aware of the differences in the ways his employees, other businessmen, his butlers, and even _Mokuba_ acted around him. They spoke to him as if walking on thin ice, trying to avoid the cracks under the surface that would cause everything to fall apart. There was too much sympathy in their eyes, too much pity. He hated it.

After two and a half weeks running on little to no sleep and cup after cup of coffee, Mokuba sat down with him during breakfast and looked at him directly.

“Something’s wrong and you’re not telling me. What’s been bothering you?”

“Nothing is bothering me,” Seto muttered in between bites of omelet. Mokuba was no longer a child, now well into his teens, but there was no way he could tell him about the content of the dreams, no matter how old he was. He couldn’t put him through that.

Mokuba rolled his eyes, pointing a chopstick at Seto, “That’s bullshit and you know it, big brother. Just talk to me, please. I want to help you. I hate seeing you like this!”

“Seeing me like what?” he raised an eyebrow and stared directly at Mokuba, “Don’t sugar coat it or avoid it, either. Tell me what you’re really thinking. I’ve noticed the looks you and everyone else gives me, don’t think I’m blind.”

“Seto…” Mokuba sighed, shaking his head, “You look sick, exhausted too. You barely eat anything anymore, you’re awake and working at all hours of the night, when you sleep it’s for such short periods of time you can’t be getting any _decent_ sleep, and you’ve gotten more and more irritable. Even towards me, there’s been a difference, and you never used to be this way. Your colleagues and employees have called me and asked if there was anything going on because you show up looking either half dead or like you’re about to bite someone’s head off. You’ve lost weight, you’re pale, you’ve even got bags under your eyes! I’m pretty sure you had your shirt on backwards a few days ago but I couldn’t say anything because you left in such a hurry. You just aren’t yourself anymore and I’m scared. I want my big brother back.”

 Seto set his hand on top of his little brother’s and squeezed, “There’s nothing wrong, I promise. Just a bit of a virus, it’ll be out of my system soon. You don’t have to worry,” he said, standing up and leaving the room, most of his food untouched.

 

* * *

 

_The first time was by far the worst. As Gozaburo pushed in he screamed out, unprepared for the pain that tore through his body._

_Gozaburo’s thick hand grabbed him by the chin and yanked him around, slapping him hard enough to leave a very red and detailed handprint across his face, “What did I tell you about making noise?” He growled, and forcefully pushed his face into the floor,_

_Once he let go Seto balled his hand into a fist and shoved it into his mouth. As Gozaburo began to push in again, he stifled his screams by biting into his hand. He could feel something dripping down his leg but he tried to ignore the feeling, focusing instead on the small trail of blood leaving his wound where his teeth had torn skin and on the pain that he was causing himself. It was becoming more and more difficult to ignore the pain he felt from behind and he forced himself to resist the urge to writhe around in hopes of getting away._

_Gozaburo was grunting as his pace became steadier, easier for him to slide in and out, lubricated by the blood. He forced Seto’s ass into the air, using his slender hips to balance himself, slamming in harder and harder. Seto could feel him getting even bigger, expanding him further and another rush of pain ran through his body.  It felt like he was being torn in half from the inside. He could feel his father throbbing inside him, breathing labored, as something spilled out inside of him._

_Despite Gozaburo pulling out, Seto didn’t feel any emptier. More began to drip down his leg as Gozaburo stood up, tucking himself away into his pants, “Clean this up,” he said before leaving the room and slamming the door behind him._

_It took several minutes before Seto was actually able to sit up, wrapping his arms around his legs and quietly sobbing. He felt dirty and he ached everywhere. He looked down at his legs and saw the mix of red and white fluids in a puddle at his feet, as well as what still dripped down his leg. He reached up and felt the bruise that had formed across his face as he gave up and crumpled to the floor, slipping into unconsciousness._


End file.
